


Too Sober

by ninjafrog19



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: "Secret" Crushes, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Hana "D.Va" Song Is a Little Shit, Hand Jobs, Hanzo Shimada is Impatient, How Do I Tag, Jesse McCree & Genji Shimada Are Best Friends, M/M, McCree Needs a Nap and Some Whiskey, Oral Fixation, Sexual Inexperience, Sharing a Bed, Shenanigans, Team Nana Ana Amari, Winston Gets Roped into Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 20:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18415478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjafrog19/pseuds/ninjafrog19
Summary: After a disasterously exhausting end to a mission with Tracer, McCree finds himself short on sleep and shoved into a mission in the desert he wasn't mentally prepared for. He's way too sober (and sleepy) for this.





	Too Sober

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I'm ever posting my writing for anyone to read other than a few close friends. Be gentle with me. XD

*August 2. 5:32am*

  
  


“Mission Notice: 8750339

 

Report Time: 0730, 2 August. Dock 3. 

 

Mission Location: Santa Fe, NM. Blackwatch Safehouse JJM6908. 

 

Partner: Shimada, H.

 

Gather Intelligence. Deadlock activity increased exponentially. 

 

Remain undetected. More information to follow upon arrival.

 

*note: Apologies for the short (note: lack of) recovery from the Kings Row mission, Jesse. See Angela before departure for biotic boost, vitamins, and if needed, a hug.  

 

-Winston”

 

“Aw, hell.” Agent Jesse McCree dusted off his old stetson on his thigh before placing the worn out, but well loved, hat on his dirty, sweaty head.  He read over the docket laying on the bedside table twice, checked his beloved golden pocket watch in kind, and flopped down on the neatly made blankets face first. He wasn’t going to have time to sleep. Or nap. Or rest. Or blink.  

 

The cowboy had just returned from his mission in Kings Row with Tracer. It was supposed to be a simple side job assisting a police escort for a newly married royal couple from one side of the city to the other. It was to last 2 days, with most of the mission time spent out of sight, trying to search out Talon or other terroristic involvement before it could make itself known. But nothing ever goes as planned with Tracer.  

 

The overly energetic veteran couldn’t fathom the thought of leaving her hometown without visiting her girlfriend, Emily. This meant McCree was stuck third-wheeling it, while Tracer dragged him along on every little adventure she wanted to take with her significant other. He had told her he was more than content to wait in the hotel until she was finished, but she pouted until he relented. That was how he found himself in the middle of an attempted art heist at the Human-Omnic Museum of Fine Art. 

 

Tracer and Emily had dragged him to the museum to “give him a little culture”, something he had heard more than once in his lifetime that he needed. He didn’t agree, but wasn’t about to argue and have both the tiny brunette and the fiery redhead giving him puppy dog eyes. He knew he was in for another lonely “date”. It wasn’t that he hated being out with them, he was just incredibly jealous that he had spent his entire 37 years of life painfully single and always acting as a wingman or, much more frequently, a third wheel. He expected the lonely boredom and the ache in his heart that he’d never get to experience anything like they had, but wasn’t anticipating three hooligans trying to steal a piece of art in the middle of broad daylight. 

 

The buxom blonde woman, who seemed to be the leader of the little gang, had a pistol she was waving around to keep everyone on the ground while her cronies lifted a priceless art collaboration from its perch. McCree and Tracer just smirked at each other and immediately leapt into action, despite Emily begging them not to get involved in hushed tones and harsh glares. Tracer zipped over to the leader and knocked the pistol from her hand by using her chronal-accelerator to zip in and out of time, while Jesse had forcefully knocked the two bumbling sidekicks heads together, incapacitating them without permanently hurting them. The woman screeched when Tracer tripped her, while McCree was there to catch her graciously before tying her hands behind her back so she couldn’t move away.  

 

“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am.” The older man grinned and tipped his hat at the angry gang-leader before gesturing to the door with a tip of his chin. “Pardner?” He whispered to Tracer. 

 

Three enemy casualties and one fully in tact piece of museum property later, the two agents were running from the building before the authorities could arrive and pinpoint them as Overwatch operatives. As they ran, Tracer called for the transport ship to arrive at the rendezvous point before shooting Emily an apology text, along with a few “I love you’s” and “I’ll make it up to you’s”. McCree expected to be in the clear, but the sudden emergence of the transport alerted a few Talon agents to their location. The pair hadn’t anticipated Talon presence in the city now that the royal couple was off on their honeymoon outside of the country, and neither of them were stocked with enough ammo for a firefight. 

 

“It’s always somethin’ with you, ain’t it Lightspeed?” He half-chuckled as he loaded Peacekeeper hastily. 

 

They ducked into an alley and came up with a quick plan to try to evade the Talon thugs, but were found almost immediately. The two of them could tell that these weren’t seasoned veterans, but at the same time were more than a little cautious. McCree drew Peacekeeper from his holster and took down three Talon agents, his shots finding their marks with no trouble. With only 3 rounds left in the chamber, he shrugged and hoped his partner had at least a little more ammunition than he did. 

 

The two of them scurried from their hideaway and tried to dodge all enemy fire as best they could, but Tracer was hit by a stray bullet in the calf as she tried to flit by a group of Talon soldiers. The tiny woman was able to take out the four man team, but it made for one hell of an exit as McCree scooped her up to carry her to the ship, firing two shots over his shoulder at the incoming Talon agents while trying not to exacerbate his partner’s condition. 

 

“You realize Em is gonna have my ass for this, right?” He growled playfully as he tucked her close to himself and jumped into their carrier, rolling as gracefully as a 6’1” bounty hunting cowboy can while carefully holding his friend. She giggled softly, but he could tell that the pain was starting to overtake her as he rushed to his feet and slammed open a biotic emitter from the emergency compartment. 

 

They managed to make it out of the danger zone before she passed out, safely strapped onto a gurney. McCree noted that he had only a single bullet left in Peacekeeper’s chamber and he ran his gloved hand over his face tiredly. The pair were sweaty, dirty, beat up, and exhausted, but at least they were safe. McCree was grateful for the biotic boosters Mercy had sent with them in her absence and let the warm glow of the nanotech work it’s scientific magic on his companions leg while he sat at the edge of the field and drifted off into a restless nap as the pilot took them back to the Watchpoint for some much needed medical attention and  _ rest _ . 

 

Which is what he thought he was going to find when he arrived in his quarters at 5:30am on August 2. Instead, he found Genji sitting quietly beside his door, glowing an ominous green in the dimly lit hallway. He sighed heavily as he watched his long-time best friend rise silently from his seated position to greet him. The cyborg ninja was of course there to deliver the news that he had a mission docket awaiting him in his room and had been dispatched to be certain he saw it before falling asleep. He seemed way too happy to be delivering the news at such an early hour, but McCree was too tired to think much of it. He bade his friend farewell and trudged into his room, noting the docket and picking it up to read it over. 

 

*August 2. 6:23am* 

 

McCree yawned as he took his seat in the transport. He rubbed his tired, chocolate eyes before pulling his hat down over his face to try to catch a cat nap on the hyperjet. The cowboy internally cursed Winston for giving him less than 2 hours to collect himself before being sent on his mission. Granted, he knew it was likely set up before Tracer had decided to extend their trip and make it into a bigger mess than it needed to be, but he was tired and grumpy and just wanted to sleep. The cowboy hoped Genji would allow him such luxury on the trip overseas. 

 

At least, that’s who he anticipated flopping into the seat next to him. The moment his partner sat down beside him, he tensed without realizing it. Through the musty, sweaty scent of his stetson, he could smell the distinct fragrance of cedar and sandalwood mixed with cherry blossoms. Genji was not sitting beside him. No, Agent _Hanzo_ Shimada was sitting there. Genji’s brother. _Not_ _Genji_. Definitely not _Genji_. Why wasn’t it Genji? He had sworn he had seen his best friend’s name on the docket, but now that he thought more thoroughly about it, it never explicitly said the cyborg ninja’s name. He just figured it was Genji because the former Blackwatch agent was the one to deliver the cursed paperwork to his room and be sure he received it. He was way too sober for this right now.

 

“Howdy.” He grunted tiredly to the elder Shimada, attempting to be friendly despite wanting to fall out of the transport into the ocean to get him out of the situation he found himself in. A situation, he surmised quickly, that was likely thrust upon him with the assistance of the cyborg ninja that was certainly NOT with him on this mission. 

 

“Good morning.” Hanzo said pleasantly, sounding much more awake and chipper than McCree had believed the archer could ever sound. 

 

“Not wantin’ to be rude or nothin’, but I ain’t much for company at the moment so pardon my silence.” McCree pushed his hat back up to its proper position and sighed. He really didn’t want to be rude to Genji’s older brother, but he also really didn’t want to be taking off from Gibraltar for an 18 hour minimum flight. He grimaced as the transport ship gained altitude. He didn’t mind flying, but takeoff always made him feel like his guts were going to fall out of his ass.  

 

“So you’re saying that I will not have you filling the silence of our voyage with the sound of your incessant chattering?” Hanzo raised an eyebrow skeptically, but with a smirk on his face. “I find that difficult to believe, Agent McCree.” 

 

McCree shrugged and attempted to close his eyes. He was completely unaware that Hanzo had no knowledge of his prior assignment ending in a shootout and a late arrival, with less than two hours to recuperate and be ready for this one. The cowboy pulled his hat back down to cover his face. “‘M sorry, but I’m gonna try and catch a few winks.” He yawned again before the transport shook violently, knocking him to the ground. “What the blue bloody-”

 

“Seems to be a bit of turbulence, boys!” The chipper voice of their pilot grated on McCree’s nerves as he tried to right himself. He ended up in a less than graceful combat roll toward the wall. His shoulder smashed into the fire hydrant and he grunted as the dull, aching pain shot through his already stiff and sore body. He remembered in that moment that he was supposed to visit Mercy before he left and had completely forgotten to follow through with it. “Caught in a bit of a storm. It’s gonna be a rough flight! Be sure to buckle in!” He wished he had at least taken the angel up on the pity hug. 

 

“Now she tells me.” McCree growled with venom in his voice. He hurled himself back to his seat and quickly latched his safety harness and mumbled angrily to himself, noting that Hanzo hadn’t budged an inch. 

 

Hanzo peered at the cowboy with a strange look in his eyes before pointedly glancing away. It made McCree feel self-conscious about himself, figuring that Hanzo was judging his lack of foresight and intelligence. “Are you alright? That sounded… quite painful.” The stoic archer asked quietly. He had been far more pleasant with everyone in the last few weeks than when he first arrived and McCree wished in this moment he had still been giving the entire team the silent treatment. Silence was far easier to deal with when the bounty hunter felt this particular level of stupidly exhausted. 

 

“‘M fine.” The sharpshooter nodded his head and adjusted himself in his seat to be more comfortable. The adrenaline pumping through his veins from toppling from his seat had him too wired to try to nap again and he cursed Winston once again for sending him out without enough rest. He jumped when a large, calloused hand gently touched his flesh forearm. 

 

“Are you sure? I can release an emitter from my emergency stash if it would help.” Hanzo said with a softness in his voice McCree had not heard from the archer even once since his arrival to the Watchpoint over a year ago. 

 

“Nah, save it.” McCree said, shaking his head. “I’d hate to use it up and then find out ya bled out somewhere ‘cause ya were short one.” He smirked impishly and grabbed a cigar from his shirt pocket. He had no intention of lighting it, but needed something to chew on so he wouldn’t go crazy in the tiny transport space. Back in his Blackwatch days, Reyes would tell him he had an oral fixation that couldn’t be quenched with just a smoke in his mouth. He wished he had realized just what his boss had actually been saying to him back then. He’d have punched the old man square in the jaw for it, despite knowing he’d have his ass kicked for insubordination. It would have been worth it, he told himself as he smiled fondly at a memory that was entirely fabricated.  

 

“As if I would ever allow myself into such a predicament.” Hanzo said with an air of superiority, but also a cheeky grin. “If you want the emitter, it’s yours. Honestly, Jesse, you can have it. I have a few spares.” 

 

McCree felt his heart skip a beat and the tiny worn out cigar almost fell from his lips. Jesse. His name. Hanzo said his actual name in that deep, sophisticated timbre that gave the gunslinger chills. It wasn’t overly confident. If anything, he could tell that Hanzo wasn’t sure if he was allowed to use the his first name in casual conversation. 

 

The use of his first name had been mostly restricted to the veterans, who all knew him more personally than the other members of the team. Angela occasionally used it with him when he wasn’t following her care plan for him and Hana used it when she wanted him to play another video game with her. But mostly, no one ever called him Jesse. Sometimes he even forgot that the name was his, as it could go weeks between moments of hearing those two syllables. It felt normal, yet almost comforting to hear it from Hanzo’s lips and he smiled a bit too much at the way it gave him goosebumps. 

 

“I appreciate the kindness, but I promise ya, I’m fine.” McCree said before the transport lurched once again. Hanzo bumped into his side but they were safely buckled into their seats this time, so no one was tossed from their perch. “Fuck.” He swore under his breath, both from the nauseating turbulence and from the touch of the archer’s warm skin against his own. He wished his mood weren’t so sour so he could enjoy the moment just a little bit. 

 

The cowboy wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he most definitely had a rather sizeable crush on the archer. Genji noticed it before he did and pointed it out frequently, loving to tease the cowboy mercilessly. McCree vehemently denied any and all interest in the dark-haired ex-yakuza who happened to be the would-be murderer of his best friend, but over time it became increasingly difficult to deny it to himself. Sure, he could tell Genji to suck eggs or jump off a cliff every time he not-so-casually-mentioned it, but when the tired gunslinger was alone in his room with only his thoughts to keep him company, he couldn’t deny that they strayed to the elder Shimada more often than not. But he also realistically knew that Hanzo wasn’t interested in him in the slightest. The archer would make small talk with him if he pushed hard enough, but he was always quick to leave the room if he saw the cowboy enter it. Every once in a while they would chat on the shooting range while waiting their turns for a spot to practice, but McCree knew it was because Hanzo was being polite to him, likely for Genji’s sake. He was a vagabond, a kid that got picked up out of a gang before he could completely sell his soul to the devil and has been trying to atone for his sins ever since. He knew for certain that despite trying his entire adult life, he would never escape the massive bounty on his head or his horrible past actions. Hanzo was way too good for a shitbag like him. 

 

He sighed and knocked his head back against the headrest. “Wish these flights wouldn’t last so dang long.” He groaned as he stretched his legs out in front of himself. Staying still was not his forte, so transports between missions were his least favorite part of them, especially when he found himself stuck next to this specific human who seemed to be an expert in patience. 

 

“It’s not that bad.” Hanzo said simply and continued maintaining his air of calmness despite McCree kicking his feet off the ground every few seconds. “Must you?” He asked, staring at the spurs of the cowboy’s boots as McCree’s chap-covered thighs continually brushed against his own. 

 

“I ain’t one for sittin’ around.” The gunslinger planted his feet firmly on the ground and took his hat off to run his hand through his hair. He had showered quickly before grabbing his things to head to the transport, but that left his hair a straggly mess under his hat. It didn’t usually bother him, but now he felt like Hanzo was judging him for it and quickly shoved the hat back on his mess of chestnut locks. 

 

“I know.” Hanzo chuckled to himself and turned to look away.

 

The tired cowboy was able to catch a short, barely-an-hour long nap before they hit another patch of turbulence that had him fully awake and clamoring for the small basket of food that Ana and Hana had packed for them. He had never been more grateful for the silver Thermos of Ana’s own unique blend of coffee beans, pressed just perfectly to make a strong but tasty brew that he hoped would perk him up in no time. He loved the taste, but also the feeling of belonging he got when he drank it. It felt like family and he offered a capful to Hanzo without thinking twice. He was shocked when the shorter man accepted the cup and downed it just as quickly as the cowboy had. They shared the small meal they were given, knowing it would be the last decent thing they ate until the mission came to an end. McCree just wished he could get some rest, but also knew he and Hanzo had to work on developing their plan and cover story during the remaining time on their flight. 

 

He was certain Genji would be the mastermind behind their planned cover, as he had been dubbed the king of cover stories long ago. It usually involved McCree in a ridiculously styled mustache, way too flashy a jacket, and using an outlandish alias that sounded straight out of an old spaghetti western movie. Hell, he hoped he wouldn’t have to play the part of Joel Morricone ever again. He didn’t want any of the newbies to ever see him without his facial hair.  

 

Luck was on his side and it seemed they had been given a simple cover; McCree was to play the part of Cody Smith, a body guard hired for Hanzo, who was playing the part of Haru Kobayashi, a Japanese businessman who was looking to purchase land in the southwest to build an American ranch for a holiday home for his employer’s family. Simple. Easy. Too Easy. McCree was suspicious of the mission, wondering if Winston even thought they’d need to use these covers. It was far less information than usual and didn’t seem overly thought out. He truly hoped they wouldn’t need to use the flimsy aliases. He was also too tired to think too much about it.    

 

*August 3. 3:57am* 

 

McCree was just plain exhausted. The transport ship was able to get them within 2 miles of the safehouse, but couldn’t take them any further without giving away their position. He knew he was going to have to walk to the house, but he had really been hoping to do it in the daylight. His weary mind was grateful that their latest transport could get them to their destination much faster than their older models, but his aching body had hoped he could catch a few more moments of sleep before beginning the hike to his old stomping grounds. The storms they hit made everything a million times worse, as the turbulence wore him out and kept them from making better time. 

 

“Why is it so cold?” Hanzo shivered as he put his the hood of his lightweight tactical jacket up to cover his head. “I thought that your deserts were hot and dry during the summer months?” They had almost reached their destination before his teeth began to chatter. The cowboy pulled off his serape and put it over Hanzo’s head before the shorter man could protest. Without hesitating, the archer wrapped himself entirely in the crimson cloth and almost immediately stopped shivering. Jesse McCree had never found anything more endearing in his life, but he wasn’t about to say it. 

 

“Don’t worry, darlin’, it’ll get hot soon enough.” McCree said worriedly, checking his compass and leading Hanzo to the safety of an old 2 room shack that Blackwatch had used back in the old days. It was at long walk due to the sheer level of exhaustion overwhelming the cowboy and as such it took them at least twice as long as it would have if he hadn’t been so tired.  

 

“It ain’t much, but…” He opened the door with his finger print, retina scan, and passcode, “I guess it’s home for the next few days. At least it’s got two rooms.” The cowboy turned on the dimmed lights and took a deep breath. The desert was his first home and he always felt a wave of nostalgia crash over him when he stopped to really take it all in. 

 

Hanzo peered around the entrance and his eyes narrowed as he adjusted from the darkness of the outside to the dim lights. “Two rooms?” He asked, noting a small kitchenette in the corner of the room they were in, with a queen size bed roll in the opposite corner. A door in the left corner of the room stood out to him and then he looked back up to McCree. “So one of us will sleep in the kitchen?” 

 

“Uh, by two rooms I meant this is one room and the other is the washroom and storage space. It ain’t much and we only have the one bed mat. It’s slightly more’n Spartan, but it’s better than a tent. At the very least, it should have air conditioning.” The cowboy said as he made his way to the control panel behind a false back in a cabinet. He attempted to scan his ID to wake Athena’s remote program, but it wouldn’t work no matter what he tried. He began to panic, realizing if they didn’t start the air conditioner before they needed it, they’d start to feel the summer heat well before noon. 

 

“So, we must share the bed space?” Hanzo asked stoically. 

 

“Yeah. I’ve slept with Genji plenty’a times.” The gunslinger shrugged as he sent a quick text to Winston, hoping he was awake and alert to realize they had a desperate situation on their hands. “Reyes too. Moira only once and I didn’t sleep. Kept thinkin’ she was gonna try ta take a kidney while I slept. You can go ahead and pick which side ya want. I ain’t picky.” He said as he kicked off his boots and started removing his gear from his body. He needed sleep, but he wanted to be marginally comfortable to do so. His chest plate, chaps, belt, boots, and hat were dumped unceremoniously on the floor as he impatiently waited for an answer from the monkey.  

 

“You seem agitated.” Hanzo noted with just a trace of acid in his voice. He began assembling Stormbow after removing most of his own accessories, including the deep red serape which he placed on top of McCree’s discarded gear. He picked up his phone and began typing furiously. His lips were pursed and his dark brows were drawn tight.

 

“Athena ain’t workin’ right. The external programs are fine, but the internals are jammed or somethin’.” McCree shook his head and started unbuttoning his plaid shirt, stripping down to just his jeans. “If we don’t get the air goin’, we’re gonna fry like sopaipilla.” 

 

“That hardly seems to be the case. It can’t be more than 38 degrees outside.” Hanzo raised an eyebrow at the cowboy, who was now standing there shirtless while stretching his aching, tired muscles. 

 

“Yeah, now. But once that sun starts risin’, it’s gonna be hotter than Satan’s left nut out there. I don’t much mind the heat to a point, but I don’t think you got any idea what it’s gonna be like in here. We won’t be able to leave the house.” McCree yawned as his communicator dinged. “Damnit.” He growled. “Winston says we aren’t to leave the safehouse until he gets a patch through for Athena. He said it could take a few hours to get her fully up and running. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He bit down on the remnants of the cigar he had been chewing on for hours.

 

“We really should check the perimeter.” Hanzo pursed his lips as he gave the room another cursory glance, his eyes falling on McCree, who was fidgeting with his belt loops. “You seem... off, McCree. Is there something I should know?” 

 

“Look, I’ll level with ya. I’m grumpy an’ damn tired. I only got about an hour of sleep between missions and the flight here wasn’t exactly a slumber party.” McCree half-snapped. “I’m jus’ a little more than ready to try to catch up on some sleep before we actually start this half-assed mission that was skimpy on any details AND do it before the summer sun tries to kill us.” He was rubbing his temples and trying not to yell. He was way too sober for this right now and he was almost certain Morrison cleared the place of his liquor stash after realizing that he and Genji had been hoarding it here. 

 

“I...did not realize.” Hanzo frowned, his face softening just a bit. “Why did you not take time to rest after your mission with Tracer?” He had been told that McCree and Lena would be arriving no later than 9:30pm the night before the mission. He knew it would be rough on the cowboy, but had no idea how rough. 

 

“Got into it with some thugs at an art gallery and then ran into Talon. A quick getaway wasn’t in the cards, ‘specially since Tracer took a bullet and I had to carry her out. We had to take the long way home to avoid leading them to the Watchpoint. I ended up coming back around 5:30 in the morning, exhausted and unable to really sleep. Winston apologized, but this is my territory. I was needed and I do what I gotta do. Not ta mention I still ain’t used to switchin’ time zones so who knows how long it’s actually been since I rested, let alone slept. So, yeah. We should get the house situated and then try to sleep off the jet lag before the sun gets too high in the sky.”

 

“Sleep.” The archer demanded, pointing at the bed roll. “I will do the perimeter check and lockdown the doors and windows.” Hanzo offered, his face the picture of calm yet stern serenity. 

 

“You sure?” McCree cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrow. “Y’ain’t gotta pick up the slack for me. I’ve worked plenty’a jobs more tired than this before. I’m grumpy, but I ain’t useless just yet.” 

 

“Just rest.” Hanzo rolled his eyes. His phone pinged and he immediately looked down at it, his expression softening at whatever he had read. 

 

McCree shrugged and continued undressing the moment Hanzo turned to start assessing the windows and doors. The tanned and muscular cowboy stripped down to just his novelty cactus print boxers before laying on the bed roll, using only the thin sheet to cover himself up to his waist. He knew it wouldn’t be long before even that would be too hot to deal with, so he uncovered one of his legs to even out the temperature. He knew he always gave off more heat than the average person, so he figured it would be better to try to preemptively keep some of it out. 

 

“You gonna sleep when yer done?” McCree asked with a yawn as he got comfortable. His eyes were heavy and he felt himself drifting off rather easily. “Should we take shifts?” 

 

Hanzo smiled gently and then turned to the gunslinger. “I will likely try to rest as soon as I finish checking the perimeter. I do not sleep so soundly that someone could get the drop on us even if you are dead to the world. Do not worry about me,  _ cowman _ .” He said, using his new favorite term for the bounty hunter. 

 

“Just makin’ sure I leave ya enough space.” McCree took a deep breath and fell asleep almost immediately as Hanzo made his way around the house to check for wires or other anomalies. 

 

*August 3. 6:06am*

 

Upon completion of his perimeter check, the archer made his way to the bed mat and adjusted himself to lay close to McCree, but not too close. The scruffy cowboy could feel the elder Shimada’s presence, but refused to acknowledge it, knowing he couldn’t have been asleep for more than 20 minutes. He wanted to sleep, not talk. He had no idea if Hanzo was anything like Genji while on a mission, and he didn’t want a repeat of his last stay in this safehouse. The younger Shimada was like a middle school girl at a sleepover on small missions; he just didn’t stop talking and giggling long enough for the other person to get any sleep, not to mention the amount of alcohol he consumed. It still wasn’t enough to catch McCree, but it was enough that they blew their entire food budget for a weeklong mission on the first night. 

 

Just as McCree felt his mind drifting back into peaceful oblivion, he felt Hanzo shift. It grated on his nerves, but he let it go. He had no reason to be angry, he was just tired. He didn’t need to take it out on the other man. McCree felt Hanzo move again, this time feeling the fabric of the other man’s clothes against his bicep. He twitched and took a deep breath, trying not to focus on the little things. This wasn’t the time to be annoyed or act like a 12 year old with his first crush. 

 

Exhausted and irritated, McCree relaxed his mind by focusing on counting sheep like his abuela would have him do as a child. He got to seven before he felt Hanzo sit up. He clenched his flesh hand, digging his nails into his palm as he fought to keep himself quiet. He just needed sleep. Was that really too much to ask? Starting an argument wasn’t going to help him fall asleep. He told himself over and over that staying still and keeping to himself would be far more beneficial in the long run. The scruffy brunette could hear the sound of clothes rustling and he assumed Hanzo was finally feeling the effects of the temperature rising. The soft sound of clothing hitting the floor was enough to confirm that Hanzo was finally stripping down to his underwear too. If his eyes were open, he would have rolled them and said “I told you so”, but he kept his mouth shut and worked on evening out his breathing. 

 

“How could it possibly go from 38 degrees to more than 78 degrees in less than an hour?” McCree heard Hanzo mumbling to himself as he shifted back under the blanket to join the “sleeping” cowboy once again. 

 

“Finally.” McCree thought to himself, loving the soft sound of Hanzo’s breath calming down. But it only lasted what felt like a few moments before Hanzo was shifting again. This time, he was moving closer to McCree’s body. It seemed to be subconscious, as he wasn’t speaking and wasn’t moving with purpose. McCree couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement course through his blood as Hanzo scooted close enough to him to consider it a heat sharing cuddle, spiking his adrenaline for a second as he rolled onto his own side to be the “big spoon”. Despite wishing he could throw his arm around the archer and pull him close, he quickly pushed those feelings away in favor of more sleep. He knew the fluctuating temperature wouldn’t last long, meaning Hanzo would move away from him soon enough. Not to mention, Hanzo would probably murder him before he could open his eyes for even trying to do such a thing. 

 

His instincts were right and as soon as he nodded off, Hanzo was peeling his sweaty back away from McCree’s bare chest, complaining to himself that the cowboy was like a space heater. The gunslinger was exhausted, grumpy, and just wanted to sleep. He had honestly thought Hanzo would handle himself just a little bit better than this. It was annoying and he was nearing his maximum tolerance for the archer’s shenanigans. For a fleeting moment, he wished Genji were the one in Hanzo’s place. The cyborg’s body was temperature regulated and there wouldn’t be any incessant complaining. 

 

McCree heard Hanzo grumbling under his breath again as he pushed the sheet from his body and sat up to flip his pillow to the cool side. “Of course, we could not get sent somewhere with a reasonable temperature.” The archer mumbled as the heat continued to rise with the sun. When he felt Hanzo lay down again, he let out a giant sigh, hoping it would make the archer realize he was actually starting to disturb his bedmate’s sleep. 

 

His wishful thinking did not pan out, and Hanzo began to whine very similarly to his younger brother, except Genji’s whining was more about boredom than anything. It would have been endearing if he wasn’t so perturbed. “Too. Hot.” Hanzo half growled as he spread himself out as much as he could to try to keep from roasting himself. His leg brushed up against McCree’s and the cowboy physically felt his thinning thread of patience finally snap.

 

The normally jovial man rolled over, straddling the archer in one fluid movement. He gripped Hanzo’s wrists and held them above his head, looking down at him with fire in his dark eyes. “If you don’t stop complainin’ about the heat so I can get some shut eye, I can make it a hell of a lot hotter in here an’ give ya somethin’ ta complain about.” He growled, watching Hanzo’s eyes go wide as the smaller man froze. McCree’s eyes were full of wild abandon and a smirk crossed his lips, feeling smug that he was able to catch the ebony haired man off guard. 

 

As he stared into Hanzo’s whiskey amber eyes, he realized there was a deep, crimson blush across the archer’s cheeks. Hanzo was biting his bottom lip as he stared right back up at the cowboy. The smaller man shifted just enough that McCree had a sudden realization about what he said in relation to the position they were in. It hadn’t clicked that his words could be taken any way other than how he intended until after the words were already hanging heavy in the air. Reyes always said his mouth moved faster than his brain. 

 

He swallowed hard, feeling a different kind of heat swelling inside of him and he licked his lips as uncertainty washed over him. He definitely had a major crush on the man beneath him, but was almost certain that it was not reciprocated in any way. He had discussed it with Ana at least a dozen times and most recently with Hana as well, because she happened to be out for a jog while Ana was smacking him repeatedly for not taking her dating advice. The pair of women seemed to take offense to the fact that he told them to lay off since he knew Hanzo couldn’t possibly be interested in a scoundrel like him. 

 

At least, that’s what he genuinely thought until he realized the look on Hanzo’s face wasn’t repulsed or even angered. The man’s eyes were shamelessly looking over his tanned chest and biceps and the way he continued to bite his bottom lip was positively sinful. 

 

As it turns out, the cowboy was weak to that look. It was the type of look he had never actually had directed at him from Hanzo or anyone else for that matter. Sure he had to pretend to be Ashe’s boyfriend more than once back in his Deadlock days, but it was never more than just a show; an arm around her shoulders or a quick kiss on the cheek. She was more like a big sister and it was always just a show to keep the underlings in line and away from her. He had never allowed himself to get close to anyone and ignored every person his former Blackwatch Team ever tried to set him up with, especially the ones Moira picked out. He shuddered at the thought. 

 

“Jesse?” Hanzo’s voice was soft but rough, his tone clearly questioning McCree. It went straight through him and he had no idea what to say or do next. His brain was stuck on loop, repeating the word “fuck” over and over and over again. He honestly had no experience with anything more than casual hugs with his teammates despite his natural charming personality being confused with incessant flirting. Everyone expected him to be some kind of roguish lover, but he was actually quite inexperienced and his brain was short circuiting. His mind was reeling as his chocolate eyes trailed down over Hanzo’s perfectly sculpted goatee, down his neck to his chest and tattoo, then back to his chest again. Sweet baby Jesus, he had a thing about Hanzo’s chest. 

 

“Hanzo?” The cowboy questioned in return, half freezing from the shock that he had put himself in a situation that he had no real world experience in handling after 37 years of life. 

Hanzo blinked a few times and then smirked tenderly, clearly amused despite his initial embarrassment. “Is that a gun in your pocket?” He asked coyly.

 

McCree cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. “Darlin’, Peacekeeper is in her case.” He said, proving both his exhaustion and naivety in one stupid sentence. 

 

The archer struggled to hold back his laughter while simultaneously choosing to take control of the moment by wrapping his legs around McCree’s waist to flip their positions on the bed mat. It caught the cowboy off guard and he blinked owlishly up at his teammate, who had him pinned down with strong thighs and a stormy look in his eyes. “H-Hanzo?” He whispered, his voice struggling to work, especially considering his level of sleepiness. 

 

“What was that you were saying about making it hotter in here?” The archer’s lips were pulled up in a lascivious grin. 

 

The cowboy opened his mouth to speak but found that he honestly had no idea what to say. “I…well now…” He started, trying to come up with the right words to express that he was inept without coming right out and admitting it. He was embarrassed enough without having to speak the words. “That’s...well, the thing is…” 

 

A sudden whoosh of air, mixed with the sound of electronic humming coming online was the only alert they had to Athena’s immediate presence in the room. “Good morning, Agents McCree and Shimada.” The cool, crisp voice of the AI filled the room, instantly destroying the moment while simultaneously saving McCree from his embarrassment. “I apologize. Did I interrupt something?” Her voice was mildly amused and not at all sorry. 

 

“Uhhh-”

 

“Yes, actually.” Hanzo answered curtly. “I believe we are allotted a few more hours to sleep before this mission formally begins? The docket was brief, but I checked on those details with Winston before departing.” 

 

“You are correct, Agent Shimada. Winston merely wanted me to inform you that he has fixed my connection and this safehouse is once again completely operational.” Athena said. 

  
“Give ‘im my thanks, would ya Athena?” McCree found his voice in time to be polite. 

 

“Already done, Agent McCree.” Athena responded. “And Agent Shimada?” 

 

“Yes?” 

  
“Genji would like me to inform you that should you need protection, there is a stash in the storage closet.” Hanzo blushed furiously as he opened his mouth to speak to the AI. “And also, you are to be gentle with the cowboy, as it is his first rodeo.”

 

If McCree felt embarrassed before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. “Hey! Tell that little shit to mind his own…” 

 

Before he could finish his statement, the pale aqua glow that meant Athena was online went dark. 

 

“She.... she hung up on me.” The cowboy said in disbelief. “I swear to all that is holy in this world, when I get back to the Watchpoint, I’m gonna take that little shit and toss him into the damn bay!” He covered his face with his hands, taking care not to bruise himself with the prosthetic. 

 

“McCree?” Hanzo asked softly, looking down at the gunslinger with a mix of pity and understanding on his face. “Jesse?” 

 

“Hm?” McCree peeked through his fingers and then ran both hands through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. 

 

“For someone who is inexperienced, you do not act as such.” Hanzo said without a hint of malice or teasing in his voice. 

 

“Not like a man wants to run around tellin’ everyone he meets that he’s a 37 year old man with about as much experience as a 14 year old boy.” McCree said quietly. “Not that it matters much, mind you” 

 

“Why does it not matter?” Hanzo asked confusedly. 

 

“Ain’t like it’s ever gonna change.” McCree shrugged and yawned, the moment disastrously ruined for him. His exhaustion made it a lot less difficult to talk candidly about the subject than he expected. “Ain’t no one in the world who wants to shack up with an old fella like me anyway.”  

 

“Maybe you are right. But...what if you are wrong?” Hanzo swallowed and reached down to touch McCree’s cheek, carding his fingers gently over the cowboy’s beard. “What if...I...maybe I am reading this wrong, but, what if I am interested in you?” 

 

McCree’s eyes widened and he could feel his lips beginning to tremble. He was weary and his ability to think clearly was impaired, but he knew he wasn’t mistaken when he saw the tender look in Hanzo’s eyes that reached down to his timid, rarely seen smile. 

 

“Yer real pretty when you smile, you know that?” The cowboy said with a lopsided grin. “I...I may’ve been uhm...well…you see…” He ran his flesh hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. “I’ve been enjoyin’ your company an awful lot the last couple’a months and I’d be lyin’ if I said I ever saw someone even half as good-lookin’, darlin’.” 

 

“You...think that I look good?” Hanzo seemed genuinely confused by the compliment. 

 

“Better’n anyone else I’ve ever seen in my whole life.” McCree said, feeling a little more confident in his words than he did in his actions. “And I’ve seen a lot more’a the world than most folks ever get to. Ya look regal.” 

 

“But, my brother…” Hanzo said immediately, his hand moving to hide his face as if on instinct. “Genji had the best looks.” 

 

“Well, I’ve seen plenty’a pictures he has of you two when ya were younger and I’d choose you as the prettier one every single time.” The cowboy said assuredly, taking the older man’s hand with his own and guiding it down so it could no longer obscure the sharp features it was trying to hide. “I...I’m real attracted to ya, Hanzo.” He smiled shyly as he felt a hot blush creeping over his cheeks. 

 

“I do not think you have very good eyesight, Agent McCree.” Hanzo smiled timidly, turning his face away to hide his enjoyment in hearing words that were clearly new to him. 

 

“Hey now, I’m a deadeye. You gotta believe what I see. And I see you as the better lookin’ Shimada brother.” The cowboy’s eyes darted down to Hanzo’s tattoo and chest once again before meeting the man’s eyes again. “I mean it. I ain’t lyin’, Hanzo.” 

 

“I know, Jesse. That’s why I am so confused. I can tell when you are lying, because you are so bad at it.” Hanzo chuckled. “And I do not know why you would think that I am good looking.” 

 

“A man like myself has refined taste?” McCree shrugged and smiled roguishly. “So...uh, what does this mean for us?” He pointed at Hanzo and then himself.

 

“Are you my ‘partner’ now, Mr. McCree?” Hanzo asked with a terrible American accent and a smile that pierced the other man’s heart faster than a shot from one of his lethal storm arrows. 

 

“All day, every day.” McCree said with a shit-eating grin. “I mean, uhm. Yeah. Yes. I want you to be my boyfriend, Hanzo.” 

 

“Boyfriend sounds so juvenile.” Hanzo laughed and threw his head back. 

 

“But, that’s what we are, ain’t it?” McCree cocked his head to the side and felt his face begin to heat up. 

 

“Yes, Jesse. I am your boyfriend now, if that is what you wish to call me. But I shall call you my partner, because you most definitely do not look like a mere boy.” The archer laid his hand on McCree’s chest and traced the hard line of his pectoral up to his shoulder and down to his bicep. 

 

“But I am a cowboy.” McCree winked up at his new boyfriend, hoping Hanzo never got to see his clean-shaven baby face. He needed to be sure to burn any photographic evidence anyone had of his most recent undercover mission the moment they got back to Gibraltar. He was certain that Ana kept at least one photo from that exploit and he didn’t want it used against him. 

 

“Fine. Then you are my cowboyfriend.” Hanzo actually giggled, trying hard to hide the undignified sound. 

 

“Well shit, if that ain’t the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.” McCree was in awe. “I want to hear that sound every day for the rest of my life.” He smiled dumbly at the archer. 

 

Hanzo scoffed but continued to smile anyway. “You have no idea how long I had hoped for this.” He whispered softly. 

 

“Yeah?” McCree positively beamed. “You been sweet on me for a while, Hanny Bee?” 

 

“H-Hanny ...Bee?” The archer half-choked, the look on his face entirely unreadable. He was clearly trying to process what he had heard. 

 

McCree cursed himself for his ridiculous propensity to give people close to him nicknames. “Forget I said it?” 

 

“No!” Hanzo said, his own eyes going wide as he blushed. “I have never had anyone call me such a thing. I did not know how to react.” 

 

“So, it’s okay for me to call you my Hanny Bee then?” The cowboy asked hopefully, butterflies fluttering away in his stomach as the nervousness of being in his first not fake-for-the-sake-of-the-mission relationship began to dissipate and turn into something more. He felt more secure as the seconds ticked by. 

 

“It is acceptable.” Hanzo nodded and glanced away shyly. 

 

“Hey, Hanzo?” McCree asked nervously, trying to catch Hanzo’s eye. 

 

“Yes?” The archer replied optimistically. 

 

McCree licked his lips and steeled his nerves. “Can I kiss ya?” He asked quietly. “Please?”

 

Hanzo positively beamed. He pulled the cowboy up, threw his arms around his neck, and leaned in to take the first kiss. Their mouths met hesitantly, a gentle mess of dry, chapped lips and facial hair, but also a warm, comforting touch of contentment and joy. 

 

“You don’t have to ask, Jesse.” The archer whispered against McCree’s mouth, moving closer to steal another kiss and a closer embrace. 

 

It was a shock to both of them when McCree whimpered at the sensual feeling of Hanzo’s rock solid chest rubbing against his own. He was incredibly sensitive to every touch and his affinity for being unable to keep quiet seemed to carry over into every aspect of his life outside of stealth missions. It didn’t help that he had literally been eyeing up that specific part of the archer’s body since day one and this moment amplified all of that desire. The cowboy pulled away from Hanzo and averted his eyes immediately. 

 

Hanzo frowned and gently cupped Jesse’s face, tilting it up so he could meet the man’s eyes. “Shame is not a look that suits you, cowman.” He said softly. 

 

“I ain’t never done somethin’ like this before. I’m...I don’t…” The younger man’s eyes would not stop darting around the room as the color in his cheeks bloomed, creeping down his neck to spread the blush across his neck and chest.

 

The archer let his hand slide down McCree’s neck, tracing calloused fingers gently over an old scar, a bright white mark on tanned skin that was meant to kill him. He continued trailing his fingers down to the darker man’s chest hair, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the larger man. “Jesse…” he breathed, moving forward to  brush his lips gently against McCree’s once again. “I want to hear your voice, to hear exactly how good you feel.” He whispered, his mouth ghosting over Jesse’s with every word. “You have nothing you need to prove to me, except that you want this as much as I do.” 

 

The cowboy whimpered, his deep voice rising just enough that it would be comical in any other situation. “Han-” His voice cracked as the archer moved just enough to brush his ass against the erection the cowboy had been sporting since before Athena had brutally interrupted the beginning of whatever this was. 

 

Hanzo grinned as he analyzed the situation, leaning in to gently bite at McCree’s bottom lip and steal another breathy gasp from his mouth. “You have already assured me that there is not a gun in your pocket. What is it that you wish to come of this moment, Jesse McCree?” 

 

McCree swallowed hard, knowing that he had absolutely no experience doing anything if he was completely honest. He knew what his body craved, what he had imagined in his quarters night after lonely night, what he wanted more than anything, but he didn’t want to lose Hanzo the moment he finally had him. He was terrified that his inexperience would only serve to destroy the fragile new relationship he found himself in. 

 

“Jesse?” Hanzo whispered, uncertainty tainting his typically confident tone. “I do not wish to put you in a position you do not actually wish to be in.” 

 

McCree’s eyes snapped to Hanzo’s and he shook his head. “I wanna be in any position with ya!” He squeaked, quickly snapping his mouth shut, realizing once again that Reyes may have been right about speaking too quickly. “I-I mean...I...that’s....”

 

“Your mouth moves faster than your brain, did you know this?” Hanzo stifled his laughter and leaned in to kiss the tip of McCree’s nose. “McCree, do you wish to take this any further today? You don’t have to. I will not be upset.” He said straightforwardly, realizing that if he wasn’t blatantly obvious, the bounty hunter would remain woefully oblivious. He, like many others, assumed that McCree would have at least had a handful of lovers in the past. This was entirely unexpected. He was way too sober for this right now. 

 

“I sure would like to, but I’m jus’-” McCree took a deep breath as his face scrunched up as he tried to figure out how to voice his thoughts. “I guess ya can’t be rusty if ya don’t really know what yer doin’ to begin with.” He started to ramble, a habit he had formed whenever his nerves got the best of him during social interactions. “Not that I don’t understand the basics, but ain’t never had practical experience.”

 

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that I have minimal experience myself?” Hanzo said, his face betraying no shame or embarrassment.

“But I thought. I mean, with you being ex-yakuza and all … Genji said you guys had yer pick of anyone ya wanted!” McCree blurted out, watching Hanzo purse his lips. 

 

“Genji tends to exaggerate.” Hanzo sighed, but smiled gently as he removed the scowl from his face. “I do have some experience but I am not some kind of harlot, Jesse. I was a teenager 20 years ago. That was the last time I allowed myself the gratification that comes of another human’s intimate company, and only ever with one girl, and it was horrible if I am being completely honest. I had already known that I was not attracted to women at that point, but the clan kept insisting that I would take a wife and my mind was trained to believe I could not be attracted to men. When it was my time to ascend into the ranks of my father’s  _ business _ , I was no longer allowed to indulge in such frivolity and after my experience, I did not wish to. After my fall from grace, I spent too much time trying to keep myself hidden from assassins to allow myself any pleasures. You are not the only inexperienced old man in this safe house, Jesse McCree.” 

 

“No jokin’?” McCree grinned lopsidedly up at the Japanese archer, finding himself a lot less anxious. “That’s… heck that’s somethin’. I’d have thought everyone in Japan would’a been tryin’ ta get in yer pants, ya know?” 

 

“They were, but I did not indulge in such undignified behaviors.” Hanzo rolled his eyes and gently smacked McCree’s forehead. “They wanted my father’s power and my mother’s money. Genji was always the promiscuous one of the family.” 

 

“Yeah, don’t I know it.” McCree reminisced for a moment, simultaneously smirking and grimacing at the memories he had wanted to forget.  

 

“What exactly do you know of it?” Hanzo asked nervously, his voice wavering as his body went stiff. 

 

“Just that I got sent to fetch his sorry ass more’n once over the years and let’s just say I ended up roundin’ him up from way more’n just drinkin’ too much and passin’ out. Our Blackwatch days weren’t all missions, all the time.” McCree chuckled, but quickly noted the change in the atmosphere. “Han?” His brow furrowed and he reached his flesh hand up to cup the archer’s cheek. “I ain’t never had nothin’ like this with ‘im. He’s my friend. The best one I think I ever had, I reckon. But that’s it. I don’t think of him as anythin’ more’n that. He ain’t my type, darlin’.” 

 

“Everyone prefers Genji.” Hanzo said robotically, all traces of mirth gone from his face. This was clearly a deep-rooted problem that McCree was certain would come back again and again, but he wasn’t worried. He would reassure Hanzo every day of his life.  

 

“Hey now. Stop that.” The cowboy sat up with Hanzo in his lap and leaned in to steal a kiss, feeling secure enough with what was going on between the two of them to not have to ask for a kiss. He laid his prosthetic on Hanzo’s thigh while his lips gently moved from the other man’s mouth to his neck. “You are the Shimada I prefer. Okay? I mean that.” He whispered against Hanzo’s neck, eliciting a shiver from the archer. “You are the one I want ta be mine. Jus’ you. Hanzo.” His artificial fingers tightened just slightly, staking his claim as he continued to pepper sweet kisses against Hanzo’s skin. “Yer my darlin’, my sweet pea, my Hanny Bee.”

 

“Jesse!” Hanzo gasped, throwing his arms over the cowboy’s shoulders, burying his face in the cowboy’s neck. “You...I have watched you rip through metal with that hand.” He stared down at the alloy fingers against his flesh. “Yet, you are so gentle with it right now. That is incredibly arousing.” Hanzo threw his head back with an almost inaudible groan as McCree gently flicked his tongue across his Adam’s Apple. “And you are also an incorrigible tease, cowman.” 

 

“I ain’t teasin’.” McCree chuckled and flipped their positions once more, rolling gracelessly to pin his boyfriend beneath him. “I wanna love on ya, Han. Kiss ya and touch ya and…” 

 

“Get to it then.” Hanzo growled playfully, reaching up to card his fingers through the other man’s scruffy beard. “I will stop you if you do something I don’t like.” He grabbed McCree’s flesh hand and placed it on his own tattooed chest. “Touch. Kiss. Do as you will.” He breathed as he bucked his hips up to grind against the cowboy’s ass, making his impatience and desire known all at once. “I want you, Jesse.” 

 

The younger man traced along the tattooed dragon beneath his fingers before finally squeezing the hardened flesh of Hanzo’s chest. He bit his lip hungrily as he stared, wanting desperately to finally have a taste but also feeling like he should ask permission before doing anything new. 

 

“I swear, if you don’t do something soon Jesse James McCree, I’m going to tie you up and fu-FUCK!” Hanzo’s greediness mixed with the use of his full name spurned the cowboy into action. He finally dipped his head down and latched his mouth onto the other man’s nipple, giving it a gentle suck. He had only been trying not to get caught staring at Hanzo’s chest since the moment the man stepped foot onto their base. “J-Jesse!” The archer squirmed at the foreign feeling, prompting the cowboy to use just a small bit of force to hold him still. He didn’t want to give up this moment so quickly. He had waited way too long for this indulgence and he was determined to enjoy it for as long as he possibly could. Hanzo had told him to get to it and he was just following orders.

 

McCree found more confidence in hearing his name rolling off of Hanzo’s tongue as he used his own to circle the dark nub. As he licked and sucked and left tiny bruises over the man’s pec, loving every gasp and grunt his partner released, his hands began to roam. He wanted to touch, to map out every inch of Hanzo’s skin and know every piece of the man beneath him. He traced every hard line, every scar, every inch he could reach before pulling away and smiling dumbly down at the other man, his eyes darting to the waistband of the other man’s black, standard issue boxer briefs. He could clearly see that his boyfriend was aroused, his cock straining against the fabric. 

 

It turned out that Hanzo was far too impatient to just let McCree stare at him all day. He turned the tables once more and before Jesse had any actual idea what was happening, the archer had finished undressing both of them, stripping them with such fluidity that McCree blinked owlishly at the sheer absurdity of the moment. Their undergarments were tossed unceremoniously to the side. “H-Han…” The bounty hunter started. 

 

“If you want to stop, say so. Otherwise, we are doing this right now, Jesse McCree. I have waited far too long to have you like this and I will not wait a moment longer, unless you truly do not want this.” Hanzo breathed as he reached down to pump himself a few times. “I have never felt this needy in my life, but dammit, Jesse, I  _ need _ you. Now.”

 

“I need you too, Han.” The cowboy simpered, staring up at his lover with absolute adoration in his eyes. In an instant, Hanzo was kissing him furiously, their lips and tongues clashing roughly as they fought to find a rhythm they were both satisfied with. The archer gently wrapped his fingers around McCree’s girth and groaned, his whole body shuddering from the victory of finally getting what he had been waiting for. Thin, calloused fingers stroked the cowboy’s thick member, dragging viscous precum down from the angry, crimson head and coating him in the sticky mess. But McCree didn’t have it in him to care about the mess. Hanzo was touching him and he was trying his best not to whimper like a schoolgirl. He couldn’t begin to describe how fantastic it felt for that to be Hanzo’s hand in place of his own, to have Hanzo kissing him and touching him and making him feel better than he had ever felt in his life. 

 

The cowboy could feel intense heat pooling in his gut rather quickly and fought against himself, not wanting this to end so soon. He tried to pull away, but Hanzo gripped him tighter and began to move his hand faster. The cowboy was seeing stars before he could say the word ‘stop’, his body tensing before he released his load into the archer’s hand, his voice betraying him as he let out a string of curse words mixed with every pet name he could think of. Hanzo gently milked him through his orgasm and smiled greedily down at him before lifting his hand to his mouth to lick the spent seed from his skin. “HANZO!” McCree’s eyes were wide and he could barely move. That was unexpected, though he would be lying if he said it wasn’t a turn on.  

 

“That was quite satisfying, cowman.” Hanzo grinned and winked before wiping the remainder of his boyfriend’s seed on the bed sheet. “You actually managed to last longer than I expected, given the circumstances.” 

 

“Hell, I didn’t last long at all. I swear I can go longer’n that.” McCree blushed feverishly, wishing the safe house would just swallow him whole. Now he had to worry that he was going to have performance issues. He could hear Mercy giving him a lecture in his head. “Well, a man of your age...” He shook his head to get the literal angel out of his thoughts.  

 

“Given the circumstances.” Hanzo repeated as he reached down to touch himself, making quite a show of it. “You were perfect, Jesse. No one ever lasts long their first time.” 

 

“LET ME!” McCree practically yelped, flipping their positions yet again. He laid Hanzo down as gently as he could and pushed the man’s hand away from where it was wrapped around his dick. “I...can I…” The cowboy licked his lips. “I want to…” 

 

“Just blow me already.” Hanzo said huffily, wishing his cowboy would always have his typical confident bravado and stop acting like a scared kitten. He sighed, realizing this was probably going to continue for a while and he would have to get used to it. “I know what it is you want and I want it as well!” 

 

McCree nodded and wasted no time, not wanting to make Hanzo wait a moment longer. He scooted himself down the archers body and wrapped his lips around the tip. He moaned, sending gentle vibrations through Hanzo’s body as he realized exactly what Reyes meant by his oral fixation. After all the years he denied all of his former commanders playful allegations about what he really needed in his mouth, he finally got it. This was heaven on Earth and he understood right then that he could die happy with Hanzo’s dick in his mouth. He gave the man a small, experimental suck and almost came again himself. He opened his mouth wider and swallowed down every inch of his boyfriend’s manhood, burying his nose in dark, neatly trimmed curls, gagging gloriously on the dick down his throat. He loved the warm feeling of his mouth being completely filled with Hanzo’s cock and gently nudged his boyfriend’s ass to try to get him to move. His first time sucking dick and he wanted nothing more than to have Hanzo fuck into his mouth and use him for pleasure. 

 

He realized Hanzo wasn’t taking the hints he was giving, so he reluctantly pulled away, much to the other man’s obvious displeasure. “H-Han...Hanzo. I want ya to fuck my mouth. Please.” He begged, feeling himself get hard again as he said the words. It was strange to be so open about this, but he also could tell that his boyfriend would be happier with him if he was forthcoming and didn’t hold back from him if his earlier impatience was anything to go by. 

 

“What?” Hanzo asked in disbelief, his eyes blinking rapidly as he swallowed the lump in his throat. His painfully awkward boyfriend who had the experience of a wet napkin went from asking permission to even touch him to begging him for kinky oral sex and his confusion was written on his face. All traces of vanilla inexperience were apparently thrown to the wind.  

 

“Ya heard me. I’m gonna swallow ya again and I want ya to fuck my mouth. Don’t hold back. I want this.” McCree begged, his dark eyes glistening with desire. “I mean it.”   

 

Hanzo couldn’t resist and yanked McCree forward for another hot kiss. “Of course, my love. Anything you wish.” 

 

McCree felt his heart start racing. He needed this. He adored Hanzo. He loved the archer, knowing that he had felt this way for long enough that he couldn’t deny it any longer. “Love ya, Han.” He blurted out just before taking the other man’s dick into his mouth once again. 

 

“Fuck.” Hanzo whimpered, his hips acting exactly as McCree had asked him. He began to thrust, gently at first, but with more power when his partner dug his prosthetic fingers into his ass, demanding more. Clearly McCree was over being awkward and shy for the moment. He wanted to be treated rough and the older man had no problem with obliging, grabbing a fistful of his lover’s chestnut hair and tugging as he pistoned his hips to fuck his cowboy exactly as he had been asked to. “You look stunning like this.” He whispered as he gazed into the cowboy’s tear rimmed eyes. “Gorgeous. Absolutely perfect. Taking my cock into that pretty mouth of yours.” He continued his dialogue upon realizing that his boyfriend’s cock had  fully hardened against his thigh. “You’re so hard again, my love. Does this turn you on?” He yanked McCree’s hair a little more roughly and started moving with more vigor. “Will you touch yourself for me?” He breathed, feeling his own release creeping up on him, knowing he would be completely helpless to stop it. 

 

McCree loved the burn and ache in his throat. Hanzo’s words were spiking his arousal to a level he had never dreamed possible, and when the other man asked him to touch himself, he complied immediately, using his flesh hand to start desperately stroking himself. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Hanzo, though. His boyfriend looked so absolutely beautiful just then. He knew this memory would be burned into his mind for the rest of his life and he had absolutely no regrets. 

 

Hanzo’s body stiffened at the feeling of McCree mewling around his cock. He pulled back, realizing a moment too late that he didn’t know if the cowboy was prepared to swallow his cum. He sprang free of McCree’s lips with a guttural moan, painting the larger man’s mouth and beard a milky white as he watched his lover lose himself to a second orgasm. 

 

Jesse looked up at Hanzo with a shy smile on his face. He licked his lips, pulling Hanzo’s mess into his mouth. “Next time ya don’t have ta pull out.” He said quietly, feeling nervous but excited as he reached out for Hanzo, pulling him into a tight embrace. 

 

“You are insufferable.” Hanzo chuckled as they settled down onto the bed mat together. “But I will remember that.”  

 

McCree hummed softly, his exhaustion overriding the adrenaline that had been coursing through him. “”M real tired, Hanny Bee.” He yawned as he slotted himself behind Hanzo’s body, taking the position of big spoon with glee. 

 

“Go to sleep, my love.” Hanzo smiled, nestling into his cowboy’s embrace with all of the smugness of a cat that finally got the cream.

 

“Mhm.” McCree mumbled against Hanzo’s neck as sleep completely overtook him, the pair comfortably resting as though they had fallen asleep together every night of their lives.    

 

*August 3, 9:35pm MDT*

 

“Do you think we should wake them?” Tracer asked her fellow agents as they sat in Winston’s office watching for any sign of movement from the safe house McCree and Hanzo were staying in. “They’ve been sleeping forever now! Jesse never sleeps this long, even when he’s on holiday.” The typically jovial speedster was worried about her longtime friend. 

 

“I, uh, don’t think it’s wise to disturb them.” Winston shook his head, knowing full well what had transpired throughout the day without any intimate details. He had programmed Athena to monitor both men’s vital signs from the moment she went online and after a spike in heart rates and temperatures, it became apparent that things had gone exactly the way Genji expected them to. It was more than obvious that the pair had been sleeping for quite a while and he felt no need to rouse them. “This mission wasn’t exactly, uh, vital?” 

 

“What do you mean, love?” The brunette asked her long-time friend quizzically. “You’re really bad at hiding things, you know? Tell me what you know, right now.”

 

“Well, uh, you see…” Winston took his glasses off, trying to find the right words to explain what he needed to say. “This wasn’t exactly an Overwatch sanctioned mission, necessarily.” He was doing his best to avoid the eyes in the room.  

 

“What? How are they using a Blackwatch safe house, utilizing Overwatch air carriers, and have a docket explaining Talon activity they are to be investigating if there is no mission?” Pharah piped in, immediately wanting explanations. Something had felt off about this whole mission and she was going to get answers. “We are already breaking laws just to operate at a minimal capacity.”

 

“I made the mission up.” Winston said apologetically, looking over at Genji who was sitting cross legged on the table with his mask off. He wanted the cyborg to chime in and help him explain.  

 

“WHAT?!” Angela stood from her chair and slammed her nearly empty coffee mug on the table, startling Hana enough to make her jump. “Jesse was not fit for duty and we sent him on this mission because he was  _ needed _ on his home turf and you are telling me that you sent him on a fake mission! That is unethical, Winston! How could you do that? He had no recovery time after his mission with Tracer and he never had a chance to stop by my office before leaving again! What is the meaning of this!?” The tiny blonde was seething, looking much more like a demon than an angel. 

 

“They aren’t really there to be doing anything because they were both in denial that they belonged together. So I convinced Winston to help me make a fake docket and no Overwatch money was used for it. ” Genji piped up triumphantly, not realizing that Athena had quietly patched Hanzo and McCree into the conversation from the other side of the world about 5 minutes prior. “I am the best wing man for both my brother and my best friend!” 

 

“YOU DID WHAT?!” Hanzo’s voice was rough, but clearly angry as he finally spoke up after listening to what was going on. 

 

Genji yelped and tried to scramble from the table but Pharah caught him by the leg and forced him to stay. “You are not going anywhere, little ninja.” She said smugly. 

 

“GENJI, YA LITTLE SHIT, I SWEAR-” McCree growled, but was cut off. 

 

“So if I told you this was all my idea, will you both be as mad?” Hana piped up, popping a large pink wad of bubble gum as she smirked at her cohorts. “Because I paid for the whole thing.” She giggled. 

 

“HANA!” Hanzo was shocked, as he had only confided his feelings for McCree to the newest member of Overwatch after she approached him with her suspicions that he was harboring a crush on the cowboy. She promised she wouldn’t tell McCree about it and would leave him to figuring things out in his own time. 

 

“What? You both clearly liked each other and no one around here was doing anything about it. So I offered Genji the cash if he could convince Winston to get in on it. Ana greenlit the whole thing, so it’s not like we acted without proper adult supervision!” The video game superstar sounded so proud of herself as she started to slowly unravel the team of cohorts that had set them up.

 

“She’s right. And now that you two are happily together, take the next few days and have a break from work. Enjoy the safe house. Don’t feel like you need to check in. The drop ship will pick you up at the rendezvous point as planned.” Ana smirked into her tea. “You two are happily together, are you not? Judging by the vital signs Athena recorded…”

 

“We’re together!” McCree interjected quickly, knowing that she wouldn’t hesitate in saying more. “Yer little scheme worked and Hanzo ‘n me are officially together. I honestly shoulda guessed ya were involved in this whole thing. Yer never one ta let things go. And I am way too sober fer this shit right now.” 

 

“There’s a bottle of whiskey in the usual place, Habibi.” Ana chuckled excitedly. “And sake as well, Hanzo. Enjoy your holiday, boys. Athena, give them complete privacy for the duration of the mission.” 

 

“Did you want me to delete the surveillance footage and vitals from today, Captain?” Athena’s crisp voice asked the room.

 

“Please and thank you. We are  _ all _ way too sober for any of that right now or ever.” The older woman said, getting up to leave the room and bask in her victory. 

**Author's Note:**

> A big yeehaw and thank you to anyone who stopped by and read this in its entirety. You the real MVP.


End file.
